


Not mine to sing about

by Hawkkitty44



Category: Red Dead Redemption, Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ficlet, M/M, Pre Canon, Short, pre ship, story idea, very loosely canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 13:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17426561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkkitty44/pseuds/Hawkkitty44
Summary: There's an empty, void part of a person's skin that only fills when they meet the right person. Not that Arthur Morgan cares, that stuff is for someone else to sing about.





	Not mine to sing about

**Author's Note:**

> I only did a short thing? but i'm thinking of doing a lot more for this fandom

To bare a black mark was to have something, someone in your life waiting for you to touch them. It is waiting for someone to touch you. Most had it; even the poor were gifted with the mark even if it led to some attempts of removal voluntary or forceful. It was hard to say when it started, all that was known was when the person meant to fill that black shape touched it the colour filled its spot. Romantics ran with the idea, what better way to say someone completed you than to sing songs of the black void being filled with colour and admiration.

Arthur didn’t care for this, never had and never would. They were for other people to care about and sing for. There were things he needed to do that if he were honest having someone be with him in that way would never end in anything but emptiness. Anyhow he had enough people graze the back of his neck to know only a fool. Or an unfortunate soul could be paired with a man like him.

Maybe it was having another unsuccessful brush with a young lady in the bar that led him to take this particular request. ‘there’s a man like nothing else that also took this quest’. He was told as he took the parchment with the details on it. As he shoved it into his pockets, he didn’t say anything because if he started caring about competition now, he might as well give up before he turned thirty.

Though he should have cared, not about the other but more on focusing on the task at hand as he rode through the dusty desert landscape. There’s a pain in his shoulder, and it hurts. The speed is masterful and not even his grip on his horse can keep him in the saddle. The ground is not a comfort as he falls on it, not face first at the very least. Away from him the horse and rider he chased make his getaway.

“you are definitely not a redhead,” a voice above him says. There’s the sound of a horses hooves and a small noise of annoyance as it stops near him. Feet hit the ground, and he can feel the other lingering above him.

“can’t explain a death on this one, common you look like you’ve dealt with worse” the voice continues. A hand, a rough yet smooth hand slides under his neck and pushes him up, so he is on the others now sitting lap.

The movement of his neck stings, warmth shoots up his spine, and he starts swearing.

“Don’t break my damn neck you foozler” Arthur grumbles.

“most folks would be grateful you know, common at least stop turning your neck,” the stranger asks.

So, Arthur realising that he is indeed moving his neck stops doing. Opening his eyes, he’s met with what he can describe as a handsome young man. His eyes are bright, but the colour under them indicate he’s seen more than just a few battles. Scars litter his face, but they are small, and well. The other’s eyes are stunning. Moving Arthurs neck to his other hand, it’s clear the other moves to check on the rest of him, but the stranger is staring at his hand.

“you have got to be kidding me” he breathes as he stares at Arthur.

Staring back all Arthur does is a sigh.

 


End file.
